


hearts hung on your sleeve

by softtofustew



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, But only a little, Chansung - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, seungbin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 02:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: all the while, changbin can only look straight and square into seungmin’s desperate eyes. but they share a common thought, something that is so bewildering and so unbelievable that changbin cannot believe his own mind - yang jeongin is alive.yang jeongin is alive -and seungmin brought him back to life.





	hearts hung on your sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spearbi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spearbi/gifts).



> title idea from kodaline ; lyrics mentioned in this work are all from songs by the japanese house
> 
> — brain fart! came up with this idea on monday and have not stopped typing ever since  
> — i don’t use honorifics here though it’s set in seoul, oop  
> — minor warning for violence and mentions of blood (but nothing extraordinarily gory, because even i can’t stomach writing too much blood)  
> — for clair, the other seungbin enthusiast i adore hoho. hope you enjoy!

**JULY 24 2018 / 2109 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / LOBBY**

_ding!_

the mechanical whirring of the lift squeaks to a halt, before the doors slide open. changbin lets his shoulders slump in exhaustion for the first time in a long while; he’d worked double shifts at the convenience store today and hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. he shuffles into the lift, before reaching out to punch the close button.

that is, until a boy suddenly darts into the lift, an all-too-familiar boy. changbin wants to groan aloud when he recognises the boy’s perky face and all-too-familiar uniform, but he keeps his mouth shut - lest the onslaught barrage of comments come raining down on him again.

he averts his gaze, instead pressing floor _19_. his neighbour doesn’t move to press the button of his floor - heck, they live right next door to each other.

the lift doors begin to close, before shutting unceremoniously and jerking upwards.

changbin stares down at his worn-out sneakers, the splatter of ramyun soup on the fronts of them. as he does so, a yawn creeps its way up his throat, and he makes no move to hide it as he yawns, mouth wide open, eyes closed.

“shut your mouth, doofus,” the familiar nasally voice pipes up. unsurprised, changbin turns his head to see seungmin huffing. “your smelly breath is filling up this lift.”

 _ah, here we go again_. “and your petty comments are filling up a galaxy,” changbin sneers. at this, the college kid narrows his eyes at changbin. “such a small being like you shouldn’t be expanding our universe with such stupid complaints.”

“ _small being_?” seungmin scoffs, as if he’s genuinely offended. he cocks his head sideways in a sort of arrogance that makes changbin seethe through his teeth. “who are you to call me small being, when i’ve got almost a head on you?”

 _way to walk yourself right into that_ , changbin chastises himself. his exhausted brain can’t seem to think of anything else to hash back at the boy, so he keeps his lips sealed and instead focuses on the numbers of the floors flickering across the screen. _13, 14, 15…_

as he does, he watches seungmin’s fingers play with the hem of his shirt sleeve. he eyes at the thick bandage wrapped around his dainty left wrist, and almost wants to reach out and question what happened, what did he do - before refraining himself. _no fraternizing with the enemy neighbour_ , a part of changbin’s brain tells him. _he’s only going to humiliate you further._

_ding!_

as the doors creak open, seungmin flashes changbin a blank stare. “see you around, shortie,” he says curtly over his shoulder, before striding out of the lift. changbin snorts in disbelief as the boy traipses off down the hallway, before rushing out of the lift to catch up with him.

“um, _shortie_ ? really? _that’s_ the best slander you can give me? disappointing,” changbin huffs. seungmin remains unfazed, instead wrangling his house keys out of the back pocket of his wrinkled pants. “at least come up with something worthwhile while you’re at it, minnie mouse.”

at this, seungmin glances at him, his eyes cold and steely. “you did _not_ go there.”

this is petty. so, _so_ petty, like kindergarteners fighting over whose paper doll looks better, whose mum is prettier, whose pencil box looks sturdier. and changbin gives in, fuck, he always does. “but i just did,” he pipes up, just as he stops in front of his apartment door. he watches beetroot red creep up seungmin’s neck and blotch across his cheeks.

“i hope you choke on your microwaved dinner, then, _shortbean_ ,” he spits, before jangling his keys into the lock of his own door, right beside changbin’s, and unlocking the door. he throws changbin one last staredown before striding into his room and slamming the door shut.

 

— 

 

to be quite frank, changbin’s a little unsure of how this - well, whatever _this_ is - between him and seungmin had sprung up in the first place. perhaps it was when changbin accidentally spilled orange juice all over seungmin’s tee shirt in the lift once. or when changbin accidentally tripped seungmin and caused him to go tumbling onto the floor of the lobby once. or when changbin first moved in about ten months ago, moved into the new urban city with the acceptance letter to one of the universities in the district.

it was a sweltering summer day then, with the sun beating down on the city. changbin had all his cardboard boxes loaded with clothes and books and fittings alike in the trunk of his hand-me-down car, and had been lugging boxes all day. by the one hour mark, sweat was pouring down changbin’s scalp and slithering under the collar of his tank top.

he slammed the trunk shut, sighing in relief as he balanced the last cardboard box of his clothes in his right arm. ah, home sweet home, he thought to himself, despite having just moved in (for all that’s worth it, this place sure is more like home than the hell he’d left behind in yongin.) changbin hummed to himself, strutting into the lobby for what felt like the billionth time that afternoon. with the box teetering precariously in his grip, he reached out to punch the up button and waited for the lift to arrive.

_ding!_

grinning, changbin closed his eyes in relief and relished in the pain in his muscles slowly ebbing away. he was so ready to sprawl across his couch and switch on the tv - he had all the channels on cable! - and sip on the cool iced lemon tea his mum had packed for him…

“fuck!” a nasally voice yanked changbin out of his daydream. to his shock, he crashed straight into a person right smack dab in front of him, emerging out of the lift. with a resounding oomph! from him, the box fell from changbin’s hands and toppled onto the floor. sweatshirts and tank tops and jeans all flew across the marble tiles of the lobby and the floor of the lift.

to make matters worse, the box had collided with someone else. changbin hurriedly crouched down to inspect the boy. “shit, i’m so sorry! are you okay?”

when the boy peered up to see the offender, changbin would be lying if he said his breath hadn’t gotten sucked straight out of his lungs. the boy’s eyes were wide and innocent, small lips parted into an equally small ‘o’ shape as he looked at changbin in confusion. his hair was the same chestnut brown as his eyes. for a second, changbin was set in a sort of trance as he blinked at the boy.

that is, until the boy found his voice. “you’ve got two eyes, for fuck’s sake. try using them next time, won’t you?” he sneered, before scrambling to his feet. too stunned for words, changbin, too, got to his feet in a hurry to meet eye-to-eye with the other. when he did, he caught sight of a nametag emblazoned across the boy’s now wrinkled shirt. _kim seungmin._

returning his attention back to the kid’s previous words, changbin’s blood began to boil. how dare this boy - who didn’t even look a day past _seventeen_ , for hell’s sake - have no manners and speak to him like that? “um, excuse me? i was carrying _that_ ,” he gestured to the box now lying on the floor, “huge ass box. so can you blame me for not being able to see my way?”

“true,” seungmin scoffed. his dark eyes flitted up and down changbin, as if doing a quick scan of him. despite himself, changbin could feel warmth snitch at the skin near his ears. “maybe i should cut you some slack; you were probably too short to see me, anyways.”

to say changbin was flabbergasted is an utter understatement. his jaw opened almost comically as he watched seungmin roll his eyes and stride off, leaving him in the dust - with his clothes strewn all over the floor and the elevator doors trying to close on one of his favourite dark hoodies.

what changbin didn’t know then, and what changbin still doesn’t know, is how seungmin will eventually crawl into his life and determine his faith, sooner or later.

 

— 

 

**JULY 25 2018 / 0018 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

even from where he’s laying on his couch, changbin can hear the distinct sound of the elevator ringing from outside. he sighs, making a grab for the remote on the coffee table and turns the volume up a notch to drown out the sound. the technicolours flash before him as the late night rom-com plays. he’s getting to the good part, wherein the main character is beginning to realise his feelings for the girl he’s been holding a grudge against for a while now.

 _big yawn_ , changbin thinks. why he still catches up with this show is a complete mystery to him. he slurps up some more noodles from the bowl in his hands, the salty soup smearing across his lips.

 _“c’mon, i can’t possibly_ like _her.”_

 _“are you even_ hearing _yourself? you talk about her, like, 25/8. and why’re you so hell-bent on hating her, anyways?”_

lethargy begins to sink into changbin’s bones, even after the refreshing shower he’d taken earlier. he picks up the few remaining strands of ramyun with his chopsticks, blows on  them, before lifting the chopsticks to his lips. on the television, the colours are blurry without his glasses, set down onto the coffee table so they don’t fog up his vision as he eats.

_“maybe if you gave her a chance, you’d realise how much you love her-”_

_ding!_

in the momentary silence, a scream pierces through the still night air out of the blue. changbin yelps, dropping the bowl and spilling ramyun soup all over his grey sweatpants. the chopsticks clatter to the floor as changbin reaches out and slaps his hand over the remote. he lifts it and clicks it shut, before looking around the room.

“what the…” his voice trails off. another scream resounds from outside his apartment room. the blood in his veins stops cold, like water freezing up, and he can barely move his feet to the door; curiosity eventually gets the better of him, and before his brain can process what’s happening, his hand is curling around his doorknob and twisting it open.

turns out it isn’t some twisted figment of his imagination. several of his neighbours are peeking out of their doors, too. from across the hallway, his neighbour woojin, clad in striped pajama pants, steps out of his room. “you heard the scream, too?”

changbin nods his head jerkily. “where could it come from?”

his other neighbour, also living opposite him, rubs sleep out of his bleary eyes. “it’s from a few floors below, i think,” minho mumbles. “can’t really tell, but it’s not our floor.”

“there doesn’t seem to be any more screaming,” woojin pipes up. “perhaps it’s just some kid having fun at this hour.”

something like unease pools in changbin’s gut - and he’s never wrong about his hunches. “maybe we should go and check it out,” he suggests hesitantly. “you never know, man. what if someone’s hurt?”

“ _here_ ? _this_ apartment?” minho blurts out. “i’ve been here for six years, binnie. if anything wild should happen in this city, it ain’t going to happen under this roof.”

as minho’s words sink in, several of the neighbours begin to nod at each other and resign back to their bedrooms. eventually, everyone shuts their doors, unfazed, leaving changbin still scanning the halls for any sign of the incident that had just occurred. woojin smiles gently at changbin. “go to sleep, changbin. it’s probably nothing.”

changbin nods silently, before closing his door shut and locking it. he double checks the lock for extra measure, before trudging into his bedroom. he changes out of his soup-splattered sweatpants into bear-printed pajama pants - he’ll wash the former tomorrow morning. with doubt still lingering in his head, changbin shuffles onto the bed before crawling under the sheets. swathed in his cozy spiderman bedsheets, changbin squeezes his eyes shut and wills the niggling thoughts away from his mind, at least for tonight.

 

— 

 

**JULY 25 2018 / 0924 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

changbin jerks awake from the insistent pounding on his front door. he hurriedly throws his sheets off of his body and tears down the narrow hall to the front door. breathless, he wrenches the door open to reveal his two close friends from his music production course standing rooted to the ground outside.

“oh my god, thank _fuck_ you’re okay,” jisung exhales. with wide eyes, he scans changbin, even lifting his arms up to inspect him. baffled, changbin simply stares on in confusion as his friend sniffs his tee. “doesn’t smell like blood. he’s good to go.”

“what’s going on?” changbin croaks out, voice groggy with sleep. “it’s way too early for y’all to be here. didn’t we agree on nine at night?”

as if on cue, his two friends exchange knowing glances. chan switches his gaze back to changbin, narrowing his eyes slightly. “you don’t know?”

“know what?” changbin asks, his voice several notes higher now. the uneasiness is back, a knot tightening in his stomach as jisung takes his hand and squeezes it.

“you might want to stop watching those stupid rom-coms and look at the news, binnie.”

 

— 

 

_“just earlier at midnight, around 00:18 hours, ji chang-wook, aged 20, was found stabbed in his home by a masked man. it was reported that he had opened the door to his home, room 1725 of district apartments, and immediately got stabbed by a man in a black mask. thankfully, many of his neighbours heard his screams and ran to his room, with one doing CPR on him and others calling the ambulance. residents are advised to be aware of any suspicious persons or activity in their surroundings, and to report anything that raises their suspicion-”_

jisung raises the remote up and clicks the tv off. “didn’t you hear anything last night or something?” he quizzes. his eyes are wide, innocent, worried as he looks at changbin. “surely you should’ve? he _literally_ lives two floors below you.”

“i did,” changbin says shakily. he finds his grip on the mug of coffee in his left hand tightening until his knuckles turn white. “i did, but the other neighbours said that it must’ve been nothing…”

“still,” jisung persists. “you should get out of here. it’s unsafe here. what if the murderer returns? that dude who got stabbed got lucky; none of his vital organs had been stabbed, and someone knew CPR. what if you’re next? what if the murderer stabs your _heart_ next time?”

noticing the perplexed expression beginning to form on his friend’s face, chan intercepts jisung from speaking further. “look, jisung’s just worrying you more. we’re just saying, how about you stay with us in the meantime? until they catch the murderer and you’re safe to live here. you don’t even wanna know how jisung practically flew to me the second i woke up to tell me the news.”

“i was scared! what if changbin will get hurt?” jisung whines, carding a hand through his ash brown hair.

chan pats jisung’s head gently, sighing. “it’s just a suggestion, changbin. we’re just kinda worried about you staying here while the guy’s still out there, well, stabbing people, i guess.”

changbin looks at his two friends. “i know you mean well, but… i think it’s less of a burden if i just stay here and wait it out, y’know? the both of you already live together at such a small place, and with me there-”

“-you’re tiny, you’d fit right in,” jisung insists.

rolling his eyes, changbin resumes talking. “as i was saying, i’ll be fine. i’ll just be on my toes if anything happens again, okay? it’ll be fine,” he insists. he sets the mug of coffee down on the coffee table, desperate for the talk of the murder attempt to blow past the three of them - despite his words, something about it just didn’t sit right with him. well, of course it shouldn’t, there’s a possibility of him getting stabbed to death.

no, something else is bothering him. when changbin had stepped out of his apartment door, all his neighbours had been out to inspect the incident, all except for the door right next to his. he remembers seeing it slightly ajar, remembers hearing heavy trudging of feet down the hallway before he’d been lulled to sleep.

he tries to push the thoughts to the back of his head, instead grabbing his remote. “anyways, since y’all are here… anyone up for a round of mario kart?”

 

— 

 

**JULY 25 2018 / 1331 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

after rounds of whooping the others’ asses at mario kart, their stomachs rumble like thunderstorms, empty and gurgling with acid ready to churn up their lunches. eventually, they set aside the controllers and make their way out of the room. as changbin twists the key in the knob to lock the door, the door beside his squeaks open to reveal seungmin. his hair is a mess, not the usual neat, combed style changbin’s used to seeing, and his eyes are bloodshot. frowning, changbin spends at least a good few seconds staring at the other until their eyes lock.

“i know i’m gorgeous, changbin, but your staring is getting real creepy,” seungmin sniffs, as he locks the door. “no wonder you’re still single; you probably scare off every one of your dates.”

“i could say the same thing about you,” changbin snorts, stuffing his house keys into his back pocket. he still can’t tear his eyes away from seungmin, though - he has on thin-framed glasses changbin has never seen on the other, and in his oversized white shirt tucked into denim jeans, seungmin looks soft, angelic almost.

ah, if only he had a personality and words to match his look.

up ahead, chan and jisung hold the lift open for changbin and seungmin to walk in. when seungmin reaches out to press the button G for ground floor, changbin takes note of the bandage firm around seungmin’s wrist again… except now, it’s on the other wrist. changbin squints a little, trying to see for any sign of a healing wound on the bandage-less wrist.

that is, until seungmin moves his arm, and the long sleeve swallows the skin of his hand. changbin’s frown deepens. wearing long sleeves in summer? he looks up to see seungmin staring at him with an unreadable look. is he mad at changbin? no. upset? couldn’t be. it’s a sort of longing gaze, but why would seungmin look at him like tha-

_ding!_

the doors squeak open, before seungmin exits the lift car soundlessly. changbin is pleasantly surprised; usually seungmin throws one last slanderous comment over his shoulder before sauntering off, but today something feels… off. changbin’s heart jumps in his chest as dots try desperately to connect in his head.

“i swear to god,” jisung suddenly mutters under his breath. “he looks at you like he wants to confess his love to you,” he adds bluntly.

changbin chokes out a laugh. “ _seungmin_? that kid? never,” he forces out as naturally as he can, as light-heartedly as he can. chan quirks an eyebrow at him, and jisung smothers a grin as they step out of the lift together. “he hates my guts. we practically let loose at each other every time we see each other in the lifts.”

chan lets out a low whistle. “sungie, you hear that? they _let loose_ -”

“-not in that sense!” changbin whines loudly. jisung giggles and ruffles the top of changbin’s hair (he’s only a few centimetres taller than changbin, but the gesture makes him feel like a gnome. big sigh.) “i swear to god, one of these days, i’m going to choke both of you to death.”

“but you love us too much,” jisung adds in a flourish, winking cheekily, before changbin dives in to give him a massive noogie on the head. in that moment in time, things are fine, things are okay. but even changbin can sense the impending storm cloud rolling in before the calm disintegrates into nothing.

 

— 

 

**JULY 25 2018 / 1609 HOURS**

**SEOUL / CC CONVENIENCE STORE**

being the only worker manning the store today, changbin makes himself comfy at the cashier, turning the air-conditioning down low and pointed towards himself to keep himself cool in the sweltering heat of the late afternoon. the whirring of the air-conditioning, accompanied with the tinny music streaming from the speakers, is the only sound filling the humid air.

changbin scrolls through his cell phone, watching youtube videos as he sucks on a spearmint. as he flicks past a compilation video of cute cats, the silver bells above the glass entrance doors tinkle softly.

_ding! ding!_

changbin tears his gaze up from his phone screen and hastily stuffs his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. “welcome!” he greets courteously over the counter. he can’t make out who’s walked in, due to the height of the shelves and the fact that he’s sat down on the low stool by the cashier. he taps his fingers against the counter as he waits for the customer to show his face.

as the customer rounds a corner and begins to shuffle down an aisle, changbin almost freezes in place. kim seungmin runs his fingers daintily across the bags of potato chips, his eyes seeming to search for a particular one, a particular brand. he still has on his glasses, and teemed with his windswept chestnut brown hair, he looks so, well.

 _pretty_ is the word.

changbin chastises himself for wanting to think that, but he doesn’t fully push the thought away, no. at times, he’s found the other boy with his guard down, and, well, it’s pretty. once, he’d caught seungmin walking his dog (“pirrie! don’t sniff that person’s leg, how dare you, you silly little thing?”) down the streets. another time, he’d seen him through the glass windows of the convenience store by accident, helping an elderly lady carry her heavy groceries while he was walking home.

those times make changbin wonder why seungmin brings up such a tough front before him, nitpicking at every little thing changbin does every single opportunity he gets. certainly the trivial incidents that had occurred previously couldn’t be enough reason for seungmin to hate him so badly, right? then what was it, really?

eventually, seungmin finds the bag of potato chips he’s looking for (sea salt flavoured) and picks up several bottles of mineral water too, and… a wrist guard. baffled, changbin’s eyes dart to seungmin’s wrist, where the bandage is still there. he wonders if maybe he’d seen wrongly yesterday night - maybe it was the same hand after all…

“oh, it’s you.” seungmin’s voice snaps the other out of his trance.

changbin scrambles to his feet to meet seungmin’s eyes. “oh, it’s you,” he mimics seungmin’s unsurprised tone, smiling thinly. “is that all?”

“yeah,” seungmin pushes the items towards the cashier before fiddling around in his back pocket for his wallet.

changbin nods wordlessly, before picking up the scanner and swiping each of the items. as he does, he’s vaguely aware of seungmin’s steely gaze on him, as if the latter is burning a hole into his every fibre. to say he’s not sweating buckets would be a lie - changbin swallows hard as he scans each of the stuff on the counter.

_beep! beep! beep!_

“i’m kind of in a rush, so if you could just-”

_beep! beep!_

“-hurry-”

_beep!_

“-up a little bit-”

_beep-_

“o- _kay_! i’m done!” changbin blurts out. his tone is harsher than he intended it to be; it’s sharp and raspy, and changbin immediately wants to take it back, especially when he glimpses up to see seungmin’s confused face. it’s sort of like a face a puppy makes when it’s kicked for no reason - all puzzled and neutral somehow.

after what seems like an eternity or two, seungmin clears his throat. he raises his eyebrows. “wow. didn’t know you treated customers like that. certainly must be why there aren’t any customers around,” he quips matter-of-factly, before he begins to count out the bills in his wallet.

fuck. he’s fucked up. “shit. i didn’t mean for it to come out like that, ‘s just that-”

“-save it,” seungmin grumbles, handing over a five-thousand won bill. “i’ve had a rough day. don’t make it worse.”

on other days, changbin would’ve taken the brunette’s words as a threat, as a challenge, and would’ve swallowed it whole only to regurgitate it back onto seungmin’s face. but today, he notices how seungmin bites his lip as he shoves the items into the recycling bag he’s brought, stars printed all over the baby blue fabric. “you okay?”

seungmin cocks his head at changbin, as if seeing him in a different light for the first time. “well. depends on what your standard of ‘okay’ is,” he mutters, but there’s a small smile on his lips, and it’s enough for changbin to nod and tear the whirring receipt from its machine.

“my _okay_ means good. feeling swell, like you’re on top of the world.”

“that’s certainly some high standards for such a blank word,” seungmin derides, but his voice is more light-hearted than taunting. “and if so, no. i feel like the opposite.”

changbin nods slowly. “is it about last night? the whole murder attempt thing?”

as soon as the words spill from his lips, he catches seungmin’s shoulders seizing up. when seungmin opens his mouth to speaks, it takes him some time to figure out what to reply, how to reply. “well. i guess you could say that. a killer in the vicinity… bound to get your guard up, huh?”

again, changbin nods in agreement. “definitely. especially killers like me.” the words are past his throat before he has time to process through them.

crinkles form along the skin of seungmin’s forehead as he furrows his eyebrows. _cute_ . “ _what_?”

“y’know. they call me lady-killer. or gentleman-killer. is that a thing?” he rambles aloud. he shakes his head slightly, before his lips split into a playful smirk. “the kind with deliriously good looks. i kill everyone in my view.”

seungmin breaks into a fit of giggles that seem so unlike him, but given his gentle demeanour, it’s fitting, really - an angelic boy with angelic glasses and equally angelic laughter. changbin almost seethes in anger at how unfair it seems. almost. “please, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”

intending to keep the bravado on, changbin leans across the counter with his elbows, batting his eyes up at seungmin. “nuh uh, i’m not. i don’t make the rules, minnie.”

“minnie?” seungmin raises an eyebrow.

changbin shrugs. “it seems fitting.”

“disgusting,” seungmin flicks changbin’s forehead so suddenly that the latter doesn’t even see it coming. he yowls in pain before stumbling backwards, hands reaching out to clutch at his forehead. and all the while, the bystander only laughs at changbin’s demise. “no one calls me that, not even my mum.”

“then i’ll be the first,” changbin jokes, before wincing in pain. either seungmin has some sort of super-strength powers, or really sharp fingernails. “wouldn’t that be nice, seungminnie?”

seungmin falls silent for a long while, so changbin removes his hands from his forehead to look at the boy properly, his mussy hair, wide eyes, thin lips, lithe frame. he watches seungmin’s fists unfurl and relax, fingertips brushing the fabric of his oversized shirt. “maybe.”

it isn’t a _yes_ , but changbin will take it in, will take all of it in. basks in the glory of this small moment he shares with his enemy, his neighbour, in this space in time.

 

— 

 

**JULY 25 2018 / 2245 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

as changbin shoves the door to his room open, he catches sight of jisung curled up by chan’s side, two peas in a pod, as they battle it out on mario kart yet again. “hah! whooped your little ass yet again! savour the taste of defeat, channie!” jisung whoops excitedly, bouncing on the couch as yoshi on the tv screen sails past the finishing line.

chan pouts, setting the game controller down. “you’re _so_ going to get it, sungie,” he teases, reaching over to plant big wet kisses all over jisung’s cheek, making him yelp in response and scrambling out of chan’s hold on him.

“ew! get those _big fat lips_ away from me-”

“-feels as if you two live under my very own roof,” changbin mutters blatantly under his breath as he strides into the living room. outside, the sound of crickets can be heard, amongst the rustling of leaves as the night breeze sweeps past trees. “have you both stayed here since i left for work?”

“well, technically we went out for dinner,” jisung tells sheepishly.

changbin rolls his eyes. “i don’t remember why i even gave y’all the extra key to the house.”

“because you love us,” jisung giggles, and chan swoops in right at that moment to pepper the younger’s face with a litter of kisses. jisung screeches in response, arms flailing as he tries to shrug chan off of him. “get _off_ , you goddamned maniac!”

“you looooove it-”

“-shut up-”

a minor headache begins pounding in changbin’s forehead, and he reaches a hand up to ease it by rubbing his forehead. god. friends. he shakes his head before turning on his heel and padding into the kitchen. he puts the kettle on to boil before ransacking for a packet of instant ramyun in his overhead drawer. just as the kettle goes off with a _pop!_ signalling that the water has been boiled, he hears another fit of giggles from the living room - he knows jisung has given up and they’re probably making out on his couch now. disgusting bunch.

he sighs defeatedly, instead tearing the packet open and shaking its contents into an empty ceramic bowl. he pours some steaming hot water in, before stirring the softening noodles with his metal chopsticks. as he does, the aroma of ramyun wafts in the air, garnering the attention of his friend from the living room.

“ooooh, ramyun,” jisung perks up at the sight of his friend’s dinner.

changbin laughs, shaking his head. “go back to sucking off chan’s face, sungie. this is _my_ dinner,” he states bluntly, making jisung pout in protest. “fine. i’ll make another one for you.”

“and me too!” chan hollers from the living room. the familiar video game music drifts through the air, so changbin suspects that the both are playing up a rematch. he ruffles jisung’s hair, before his friend beams with gratitude and bounds back into the living room.

within minutes, changbin is balancing his friends’ bowls of ramyun and setting them down with a loud chink onto the glass of the coffee table. he glimpses up at the screen to see chan’s avatar drop off of the face of the world. “you’re so bad at this, chan.”

“can you blame me, though?” chan hisses in between his gritted teeth. “i’m already so perfect; if i was good at video games, too, jisung would explode at this point.”

“yah!” jisung protests, before yoshi gets smashed into the wall by chan’s respawned bowser. “hey, that’s not fair!”

“so is,” chan grins wickedly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his fingers punch the buttons on the game controller. changbin can only roll his eyes as he leans back and slurps up ramyun from his own bowl. he licks the corner of his lips as he feels soup splattering across them.

_ding!_

the resounding noise of the day-old elevator reverberate throughout the house. frowning, changbin recalls the murder incident yesterday night. a sort of chill runs down his spine as he thinks of how he’d opened the door to realise seungmin’s door, right beside his, had been left ajar. yet, some things don’t seem to add up - changbin’s mind doesn’t seem to be able to piece together everything perfectly; his gut twists with anxiety.

“come _on_ !” jisung yells all of a sudden, throwing the game controller down onto the couch in his fury. “you won me by an _inch_.” he pouts, folding his arms across his chest like a bad-tempered five-year-old. all the while, chan laughs and wraps his arms around the younger, tickling his sides to get him to smile. sat beside the both of them, changbin’s head pounds with an impending headache.

as jisung’s shrieks of laughter seem to amplify with every ticking second, there’s a knock on his door. alarmed, changbin jumps to his feet, almost dropping his bowl of ramyun all over him (again). his friends seem unfazed by his actions, however, with chan tackling and pinning jisung down onto the couch and planting kisses all over his face (right in front of changbin’s ramyun, too, at that).

his every step is laced with trepidation as he nears the front door. flashes of this morning’s news broadcast flickers through changbin’s mind rapidly. _it was reported that he had opened the door to his home._ changbin swallows, hard, but the lump growing in his throat constricts him from doing so. he inhales deeply through his nose before wrapping his hand tight around the doorknob.

with his heart leaping out of his chest, changbin wrenches the door open - to reveal his next door neighbour. all blood in his veins freezes as he takes in the sight of seungmin… clad in puppy-printed pajamas and bed-hair. like. fluffy, rolled-out-of-the-bed bed hair. his clothes are rumpled, and his glasses are askew on his face. he looks at changbin like a lost puppy, eyes bleary and innocent.

changbin’s eyes land on seungmin’s hands. no weapon. he practically feels the anxiety deflate out of his very body.

“h-hey, seungmin,” he breathes shakily, locking eyes with the other. “what’s up?”

“what’s _up_ ?” seungmin huffs. “it’s close to midnight, i’m trying to get some fucking _shut-eye_ , and you and your,” he peers into the house through the space between changbin’s sloping shoulder and his jaw, and changbin is preeeetty sure that the other can see his friends getting it on, “uh. boyfriends?-”

“ _-friends_!” changbin yells. “just friends. who are, well, boyfriends. but that’s beside the point-”

“-yeah,” seungmin’s gaze returns to changbin’s eyes, those irises flickering from changbin’s greasy, unshowered hair to his nose to his lips. (maybe there’s more ramyun soup spilled on the corners. he’ll wipe it off later.) “well, they’re really loud. i don’t care what they’re doing, or how you’re involved in what they’re doing, but just a reminder that the walls here are pretty fucking thin, and if they want to-”

“-they’re leaving soon!” changbin cuts him off in protest, raising his hands in surrender. “i swear i wasn’t expecting them to start sucking each other’s faces off after _mario kart_ of all things.”

seungmin snorts, before silence settles into their bones. (save for the two boys giggling in the background, but that’s beyond changbin’s control.) somewhere down the hallway, there’s another ringing _ding!_ from the floor below. neither acknowledge it, however, not when seungmin is squinting at changbin with a pinched look. “you’ve got a little something on the side of your lip.”

“what?” changbin reaches up to his face. dammit. it must be the ramyun. “oh, well, i was eating dinner earlier…”

eyes wide, seungmin gestures for changbin to move his hand more to his left. “yeah. there’s soup there, i think,” he says, and his tone is soft, gentle, like a lullaby so soothing to the ears. Is seungmin going _soft_ on changbin of all people? changbin recalls their earlier conversation at the convenience store, and now with just the both of them here again. well.

it feels nice, really. that is, until another scream rings out from the floor below.

in that same moment, changbin can see the exact second when seungmin’s chocolatey brown eyes widen a fraction, when seungmin’s shoulders seize up in shock, when seungmin’s lips part in an ‘o’. “the murderer. I-i need to go,” he fumbles for his words, already beginning to backtrack from where he was standing before the other.

“ _what_ ?” changbin sputters. “there’s a _murderer_ downstairs, stupid-”

“-there’s someone who’s getting fucking _killed_ , stupid!” seungmin spits back, before turning on his heel and making a mad dash for the stairs. changbin’s not sure what compels him, but his feet are slamming against the tiled floors of the hallway and towards the doorway to the staircase. he wrenches the door open and takes the steps two at a time, all the while right behind seungmin.

when they reach the landing, seungmin slams the door open so suddenly that it makes changbin jump. unbothered, the boy rushes down the hallway and stops short in front of an open door. as soon as changbin nears the doorway, it takes every fibre in changbin’s body to refrain himself from screaming himself.

there, laid on the floor, is the boy changbin has acquainted with for a few months now - yang jeongin, a high schooler the floor below who had given him chocolate chip cookies one day in the winter with a wide grin and crescent eyes. right now, blood pools, flowing ceaselessly all over the tiled floor of the doorway, from the huge gash in his lower abdomen.

“fuck,” seungmin mutters. he glances back to notice a neighbour beginning to emerge from opposite the hallway. “fuck. changbin, i need you to close the door a little.”

“ _what_ ?” the older _cannot_ believe what his brain is processing from his ears. changbin’s hands tremble, fear flapping its wings furiously in his stomach. “why do i need to-”

“-just _do it_!” seungmin snarls, his voice gravelly as he leans over jeongin’s body. changbin closes the door, leaving it only slightly ajar. as seungmin’s back faces him, he hears that scratchy voice murmur, “he’s dead, changbin. i can’t feel a pulse-”

“ _-what_?-”

“-i need you to not scream.” those words are heavy with a sort of unfamiliar emotion, and changbin wants to ask a million questions, but he can only stand rooted to the ground and watch. he watches seungmin wrangle the wrist guard from around his left wrist and crack his knuckles. “it’s gonna look a little weird.”

before the questions can squeeze their way out his throat - _what do you mean a little weird? are_ you _part of this murdering scheme? what’s with the wrist guard?_ \- seungmin wriggles his fingers before carefully positioning his left hand over jeongin’s wound. a low humming slices through the still night air, and in that split second it’s as if time and space is reversed - changbin can’t feel his heartbeat one moment; he can feel blood surging through his veins at an alarming rate the next.

all the while, his eyes remain on the hunched willowy frame of his neighbour, as seungmin presses his palm flat against jeongin’s wound. a dull white glow seems to spill past seungmin’s fingertips and surround the gash across the other’s abdomen. changbin can’t believe his eyes as he takes in the sight of seungmin’s hand twitching in a sort of seizure, muscles and veins showing under his skin as the glow irradiates, brighter and brighter and _brighter_ and-

“seungmin,” changbin breathes. all he can do is stare on helplessly as he sees seungmin’s eyes squeeze shut, his teeth digging so sharply into his lower lip in pain that he draws copper blood. sweat pours from seungmin’s scalp as he channels all his energy into his left hand, and, finally, the glow dissipates almost as immediately as it appeared.

the humming noise disappears, and so does changbin’s irrational heartbeat. too stunned for words, he simply allows the other neighbours to barge through the door to jeongin’s room and gasp at the sight before them: a bleeding teenage boy, a panting neighbour clutching tightly onto his left hand.

time blurs as people rush into and out of room 1825. all the while, changbin can only look straight and square into seungmin’s desperate eyes, the pain splayed before his eyes. but they share a common thought, something that is so bewildering and so unbelievable that changbin cannot believe his own mind - yang jeongin is alive.

yang jeongin is alive - _and seungmin brought him back to life._

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 0032 HOURS**

**SEOUL GANGNAM POLICE STATION / WAITING AREA**

at the sound of sneakers slapping against the grimey tiles, changbin jerks awake from where he’d fallen asleep on one of the waiting area chairs, back against the wall. he watches seungmin as he shuffles into the waiting area. the wrist guard is back on his left wrist, wrapped tightly and just nice.

he spares changbin a quick glance before staring down at his feet. “let’s go home,” he mutters.

after the incident, they’d both headed to the police station to give their reports on the murder attempt, with seungmin ever so conveniently leaving out the detail about him placing a hand over jeongin’s wound and bringing him back from the dead. when they were tailing jeongin out of the apartment, nurses hauling the stretcher were exchanging glances with each other.

_“how’s he still alive? the murderer stabbed him at one of his vital organs, i’m sure of it.”_

_“it’s a miracle, really…”_

_“murdered at such a young age… this must be god’s blessing.”_

_not god’s blessing_ , changbin thinks. _but close enough._

“i think your friends are waiting outside for us, let’s go,” seungmin mumbles. he’s about to swivel around and head out when changbin reaches out to touch his left hand gently. (he’s not going to let go of this moment so easily.) seungmin flinches, retracting his hand and staring down at his neighbour. “what?”

tension permeates the air as changbin slowly rises to his feet, eyes never escaping seungmin’s hard gaze on him. “what was that all about?”

“what do you mean?” the innocence card. seungmin’s pulling the innocence card - and changbin’s not going to buy what he hears, or what he sees anymore.

“what happened back there?” changbin asks in a hushed tone - after all, they’re still at the police station, though an empty waiting room. “you just… when you heard the scream, you knew where to go. you knew where to run to. you fucking… you just put a hand on jeongin, and _boom_! alive again! like some sort of twisted frankenstein shit-”

“-look, how about we talk about this sometime later-”

“-seungmin,” changbin growls. at this, the other’s voice falls immediately, alongside with his facial expression. up until the incident, changbin always got this sort of aura of an air of confidence from the younger, someone so capable and so self-assured of himself. now, before him, seungmin looks exhausted, broken, the same way he’d looked earlier in the afternoon when changbin saw him for the first time in the day. “what was that all about? your hand, that _glow…_ ”

he squints at seungmin, noticing the way his incisors dig into his chapped lower lip again. “you’re some sort of super dude, right? the kind that saves lives… literally.”

at this, seungmin has to chuckle a little. “‘super dude’? seriously?”

“well, how else am i supposed to address you when you won’t even tell me?!” changbin sighs, exasperated as he throws his hands up into the air in disbelief. yet, his neighbour finds his gesticulations amusing, for he giggles softly, eyes curling upwards into those adorable little crescents. “don’t laugh at me like that.”

“oh, changbinnie, my dear changbinnie,” seungmin teases. his voice is rich, honey drooling from its jar; changbin tries to hide how much the nickname affects him, but it’s endearing, the way it rolls off of seungmin’s tongue like second nature. “you better be patient with me if you want to know it all.”

“of course. i’m always patient,” changbin huffs loudly.

despite the situation, seungmin’s eyes twinkle gleefully. “oh, we’ll see about that.”

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 0104 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

with changbin having shooed his friends out of his house (despite chan’s persistent reasoning and jisung’s consistent whining), he invites seungmin into his place. it’s when they cross into the living room that changbin feels himself practically shrink into his clothes. magazines are stacked haphazardly in one corner of the room, there’s bowls of unfinished ramyun on the coffee table, his television is still on, video game sounds blaring from the speakers.

seungmin scrunches up his nose. “nice place, i guess,” he mutters, but he doesn’t seem to pay too much mind, since he seats himself comfortably onto the worn-out couch. he takes ahold of one of the throw pillows, hugging it to his chest like a little kid - changbin’s heart does a dive and a dip.

“yeah,” he croaks out, before timidly taking a seat beside seungmin. his eyes haven’t left seungmin’s wrist guard wrapped around his dainty hand. “your hand-”

“-is fine,” seungmin reassures the other. “i mean, well, you saw how much energy that took in me. it’ll heal in a day or two. that’s why i alternate between hands.”

changbin nods his head ever so slowly. “what if you use both hands?”

the younger boy shrugs. “never tried it out before. when my grandma - i grew up with my grandparents, by the way, after my parents divorced - first realised my ability back when i was five, i think i used both my hands. i can’t remember it well. all i know is that afterwards, my grandma told me i almost _died_ from all the energy i was giving out of my body.”

changbin nods again, eager to hear more. “do you ever use your abilities on animals? or just humans? do you go to hospitals and save people’s lives, too?”

“woah, slow down,” seungmin giggles, his lips pulling up into a grin. somewhere in the distance, another distinct _ding!_ goes off, but it falls upon deaf ears as seungmin continues explaining. “i don’t usually use my abilities. to be frank, i never do. it’s just that recently, ever since i moved here, someone’s been trying to hunt me down.”

at this, curiosity bubbles in changbin’s gut. he leans closer, eyes widening. “how do you know that?”

“little things,” seungmin murmurs. “when you’re so aware of everything around you being alive, you know the second death comes around. my potted plants keep dying after first blossom. a bird randomly conked out and died on a branch outside my window. once, pirrie brushed up against someone in the lobby and he spasmed so badly.”

changbin _blinkblinkblinks_ , unable to process what he is hearing. “so… you have the ability of bringing people back to life. and someone else has the ability-”

“-to bring people their death. yeah,” seungmin says matter-of-factly. “the murders add up. someone wants to harness my power, i believe - want to lure me in and use my abilities to bring the victims back to life, and if they strike right, they can just harvest it.”

the revelation of all this is almost too much to handle. it takes changbin a few more tries to form a complete sentence. “why would they do that?”  
“i don’t know,” seungmin shrugs. he picks at a scratch on the couch, the stuffing peeking out. his other hand reaches out to prop his glasses higher up his nose bridge. “all i do know is that they know my weak point - i can’t _not_ save someone when they live right under the same roof as i do. i don’t necessarily save everyone in hospitals, but i try my best with car accidents i pass by, stray dogs dying of hunger on the streets-”

“-neighbours stabbed to their deaths?” changbin adds light-heartedly.

as the words leave his mouth, seungmin gives him a look. “you know you’re next, right?”

and that spiralling in his gut tightens and tightens and tightens. “ _what_?”

“the room numbers. 1725, 1825,” he rattles off, before sparing changbin a knowing, and somewhat pitiful, glance. “1925.”

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 0732 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

changbin jerks awake, only to find himself on the couch, legs sprawled out before him. confused, he blinks his eyes open several times before shifting his weight. when his arm brushes against something, he freezes still.

the sound of laboured breathing, punctuated by the softest snores, drifts from his side. ever so delicately, changbin tilts his head sideways to see a boy in puppy-printed pajamas curled up by his side, head snuggled against his left arm. his glasses are drooping low on the bridge of his nose, eyelashes long as they frame his closed eyes.

memories of yesterday night rush to him, a wave crashing against the shores. _oh, right,_ he thinks to himself as he straightens up and ever so carefully pulls his arm from under the weight of seungmin’s head. alas, the boy grumbles awake, lolling his head back and murmuring something indecipherable under his breath.

“morning,” changbin murmurs, voice gravelly from sleep.

seungmin cracks open an eye. “morning? what’re you-” all of a sudden, he sits up straight, peeling his bloodshot eyes open to the scene before him. “wha- why am i here?”

“i guess we were talking ‘till we fell asleep on accident,” changbin suggests, cracking out the kinks in his neck. seungmin watches him forlornly, as if to see if changbin is lying or not. “we were talking for quite a while, you know.”

“yeah,” seungmin nods his head. “about the plan.”

the plan goes like this: the both of them will camp out in changbin’s home, ‘till the time strikes and there goes the knock on the door of his house. before changbin gets stabbed, seungmin will wrangle the murderer and capture him, just in time for the police to arrive and take it from there.

“how are we so sure that the murderer isn’t some sort of, like, henchman? maybe it’s not actually the walking god of death himself,” changbin points out skeptically. he runs a hand through his greasy hair, cringing when he realises that he hadn’t showered yesterday. no wonder he feels extra crusty this morning.  
“gut feeling,” seungmin tells him, before scrambling to his feet and stretching. his lips part into a drawn-out yawn, arms reaching up into the air. there’s a sliver of smooth skin between the hem of the pajama shirt and the waistband of his pants, and changbin looks away on instinct. _good job, changbin! it’s barely seven and you’re already checking him out!_ “don’t worry about it. i’ll stick by you the whole day, no one’s going to lay a finger on you.”

“gee, thanks,” changbin replies. he watches as seungmin disappears into the kitchen. “wait, where are you going?”  
he hurriedly dashes down the hall and into the miniscule kitchen, too small for two people to move around much. seungmin adjusts his glasses on his face as he turns to look at changbin pointedly. “making us breakfast?”

“wait, i can make breakfast for-”

seungmin rolls his eyes at him. “you stink like shit, changbinnie. i don’t want your stench to get into the food,” he barks, but his eyes are twinkling in delight. changbin scrunches up his nose, to which the younger responds by poking his tongue out childlishly. it’s ridiculous, but they laugh all the same, and warmth spreads throughout changbin’s chest - and stays there.

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 0808 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ping! ping! ping!_

as changbin shoves another forkful of waffles into his mouth (revelation of the day: seungmin makes some pretty killer waffles. changbin wonders if the other could drop by every morning and make some for them), his phone notifications go off, his phone buzzing where it’s laid carelessly on the kitchen countertop.

 

 **sungie** CHANGBWHDEWUHD

 **sungie** CHAN SAID MAYB THE MURDERWER

 **sungie** IS COMUHDE FOR U NEXT

 **sungie** fUCK

 

 **binnie** calm down

 **binnie** i know

 **binnie** dw seungmins w me

 

 **channie** isnt that the kid you were complaining bout ystd

 

 **binnie** well

 

 **sungie** INWEUIF CHAN I CALLED IT

 **sungie** THEY FUCKED LAST NIGHT

 **sungie** I KNEEEEWWW IT

 

 **binnie** NO FUCKING TOOK PLACE

 **binnie** look it’s a lot to explain

 

 **channie** NOOOO MY 10000 WON

 

 **binnie** yall bet on me…?

 

 **sungie** i mean

 **sungie** yall looked snuggly in the car ystd

 

 **binnie** THATS BESIDE THE POINT

 **binnie** a) we’re both still virgins

 

 **channie** lmao r u assuming he’s as virgin as u are

 

 **binnie** !!!! b) !!!!!

 **binnie** he’ll be w me the whole day

 **binnie** i’ll explain why like. Tmr or smtg

 **binnie** just enjoy your road trip today!!!!

 

 **sungie** HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO RELAX

 **sungie** wHEN UR ABOUT TO D I E

 

 **binnie** dw man

 **binnie** seungmin will portecl me

 

“you spelt protect wrong.” seungmin’s voice jolts him from his texting. sat beside him, seungmin’s finished his breakfast, empty plate laid before him as he wipes his lips delicately with a napkin. “and yes, i _am_ a virgin. please inform your boyfriends that.”

“yah,” changbin gripes. “why did you look at what my friends were typing? and no - i stress again, we’re not boyfriends, _they’re_ boyfriends.”

“hm.” seungmin stands to his feet, taking up the plate and shuffling around to the sink, before promptly dumping it there. leaving it for changbin to wash. great. “anyways. hurry up and finish your waffles. if i’m tagging along with you today, you need to follow up with my schedule.”

“your schedule?” changbin’s eyes widen. “wait, we didn’t agree to anything about your schedule today-”

“-i need to feed pirrie and walk him before 10, then it’s grocery shopping, then lunch at exactly 12:30, and-”

“-hold up, i-”

“-after that, i need to return some books i borrowed from the local library-”

“-who borrows books anymore? wait, there’s a _library_ here-”

“-and then, you have work from 3 to 9,” seungmin finishes off with a flourish. noticing the surprise in the older’s eyes, he shrugs nonchalantly. “i walk past the store every day. and you walk really heavily; i can hear you walk into your house right next door every day.”

changbin opens his mouth, before closing it again. “ah,” he murmurs. there’s something foreign in the way seungmin openly gazes at him, nose screwed up but not with disgust, lips curling cutely at the corner.

_ping! ping!_

 

 **channie** ok then… enjoy ur date w him!!!!!!

 

 **sungie** ngawww binnie’s finally getting his boy

 **sungie** can’t wait for the wedding ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

 

before another groan can choke past changbin’s throat, seungmin smacks him on the back out of the blue. “come _on_ , slowpoke - we’ve got a day ahead of us!”

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 0901 HOURS**

**DISTRICT PARK / PLAYGROUND**

sunshine gleams down upon them, as if no impending doom awaits them at the end of the long road. changbin scrunches his nose as the basset hound bounds alongside his owner. “how long are we supposed to walk him for?” he quizzes.

seungmin’s changed out of his pajamas and into a pale pink tee tucked into denim jeans, hair swept off of his forehead. his eyes almost sparkle under the sunshine, and for a second changbin’s glad the other’s a boy who can magic anyone or anything alive - it’d be tough to process if seungmin, the boy with his angelic looks, were to kill someone with a simple graze of a hand. “about half an hour or so. pirrie needs some exercise; he’s always cooped up at home.”

pirrie snuggles up against changbin’s legs. the latter tries not to show his discomfort, but he still squirms away from the mutt’s contact nevertheless. he’s never been that fond of dogs in general. “ah. well, okay. what about when you have school?”

“well, then i walk him in the evenings if i can,” he replies casually. the three of them dodge a mom pushing a pram with her wailing baby wrestling inside, pirrie barely skipping past the wheels. “it really depends on my schedule. but summer gives ‘im aaaall the attention he wants. right, pirrie?”

at this, pirrie runs around in circles, as if to catch his own tail. changbin has to laugh at the dog’s antics, and when seungmin leans down to scratch at the underside of his face (“he loves getting scratched down here, you can try it!” seungmin had told the older earlier with the brightest smile on his face) a strand of hair falls past his eyebrows. when he stands back upright, changbin doesn’t realise what he’s doing - he reaches out to tuck the strand of hair back.

mildly surprised, seungmin flinches a little from the contact. a nervous smile is tainted across his lips. “woah. don’t let your friends _actually_ think that we’re on a date,” he jokes. his tone is playful, but changbin flushes red all the same.

“how would they know? they’re on a road trip downtown to see an old friend today,” changbin protests, trying hard to will away the burn in his ears.

“you never know,” seungmin huffs, swiping imaginary dust off of the front of his tee. “your friends seem like the kind of bunch who’d ditch a six-month-long plan to spy on us.”

changbin snorts, but he has to admit, he can’t really dismiss the whole idea altogether. “welll… have _you_ ever been on a date?”

seungmin narrows his eyes at the older. “are you implying that this _is_ a date?”

“what? no!” changbin sputters. they turn a corner, and he almost crashes straight into a lamp post. _great going_ , he admonishes himself inwardly. “just, y’know. random question.”

“ah,” the younger untangles the leash where it got caught on his wrist guard, before glancing back at changbin. “well, there was this one time i went out with a girl at this cafe. it wasn’t pretty, actually. i didn’t feel anything except awkwardness, and she was trying to flirt with me the whole time. double awkward.”

“dates aren’t your thing?” changbin pipes up. as they near the perimeters of the park, more and more dog owners can be seen walking their dogs of various breeds and sizes. the air is filled with the sounds of insistent barking and loud screeching of children from the playground equipment. seungmin eventually finds an empty bench where he unhooks pirrie from his leash and lets him meander around the open yard with the other dogs.

as changbin plops down beside seungmin, the brunette chuckles lightly. “ _girls_ aren’t my thing,” he corrects bluntly, and well.

that changes everything, changbin supposes.

“oh!” he _cannot_ get any redder than this, he really cannot. “oh, well. that’s fine by me. that’s coolio.”

“really?” seungmin sniffs. “that’s sweet of you.”

“no, i’m serious,” changbin protests. his eyes linger on pirrie beginning to mangle a smaller pup, chasing its wagging tail around and around and around. “i mean, well, you know how comfy i am with my friends on my couch all the time-”

“-spare me the details,” the younger cuts him off, but his smile never leaves his face. “‘s nothing much, actually. maybe i’m too big of a wuss to find anyone in school worth my time.”

at this, changbin falls silent, and allows their surroundings to overtake the sounds. birds titter high up amongst the branches of oak trees overhead, with the odd leaf drifting downwards with the breeze that blows it along. another loud squeal erupts from a girl who tries to hop up and grab a rung on the monkey bar. the squeal is enough for all the blood to shrink away from his head, leaving him light-headed. _he can strike any time, and you’ll be left dead with only so much of a touch of a hand._

being ever so observant, seungmin tilts his head to peer at changbin. “you do know that they can’t hurt you out here, right, with so many people? in broad daylight?”

“yeah, but…” changbin’s voice trails off. gradually, as the significance of the day draws closer and closer, it seems as if changbin’s anxiety only increases ever so gradually, too.

out of the blue, a hand reaches out to graze his left hand resting on his lap. changbin’s eyes shoot wide open - the energy, though dull, throbs through the fibres of the skin of his knuckles, and he stares at seungmin in bewilderment. he can feel the warmth of the boy seeping through his skin, like ink spreading throughout thin paper; he can feel the tingling sensation all the way down to his curling toes.

seungmin closes his eyes for a second, before his eyelashes flutter open. “you feel that?”

“yeah.” changbin’s throat is clogged up, all the words that used to come so naturally to him now clogged up in his head. “yeah.”

“so you’ll be fine.” the second seungmin retracts his hand, the tender touch is missing faster than a snap of his fingers. “don’t worry about it. i’m a pretty capable dude.”

“no doubt about that,” changbin deadpans, which earns him a nudge in the rib. “ow! that was’t necessary.”

“so you can get it into your damned brain that even if i hate your guts, i’m willing for them not to spill all over the floor tonight,” seungmin retorts, before giggling cutely. either changbin needs to get some therapy, or he needs to start figuring out why his heart squeezes every single time his neighbour’s lips turn upwards into a beaming smile.

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 1032 HOURS**

**SEOUL MART / COLD STORAGE SECTION**

“and i need eggs,” seungmin mutters, one hand scrolling through the list he’s typed into his cell phone, another pushing a trolley down the aisle along the cold storage section. they’d dropped pirrie off in seungmin’s room before proceeding with the next segment of seungmin’s day - grocery shopping. changbin grits his teeth in order to stall them from chattering away from the cold air of fridges. “but first, i need cherry tomatoes.”

changbin nods his head jerkily, before reaching down into one of the sections for a plastic package of cherry tomatoes, only to have his hand swatted away. “not _that_ brand; i only buy from this one brand-”

“-how specific are you even?” changbin groans. “and how many groceries are you even buying? it’s like you’re feeding a whole army of your own!”

“i’m a growing boy,” he shoots back as quickly as changbin finishes his sentence, before delicately plucking a package of cherry tomatoes. he shows them off to changbin with a radiant grin. “also, i plan to dye my hair this colour one day. just to let you know.”

to think that the brunette would want to colour his hair a shocking red, changbin forces out a laugh. “okay, then. whatever you say, kiddo.”

seungmin pulls his lips into a pout. “i’m sure i’m only a year younger than you, maybe even lesser that that!” he whines, before dumping the cherry tomatoes into the trolley. “next on the list is eggs.”

they carefully weave their way through a gaggle of girls near the drinks section, before halting before the shelves, stacked to the brim with cartons of eggs. as seungmin fawns over which carton to choose, changbin eyes the crowd. his eyes land on someone in a dark tee, dark jeans. as he squints, he catches sight of a pair of silver earrings glistening, before the certain someone is yanked back to hide behind a pillar.

“wow,” he chuckles dryly. “you were right.”

“right about what?” seungmin perks up, craning his neck to follow changbin’s line of sight. “what am i supposed to see?”

“my friends _really_ just ditched the road trip just to follow us around,” changbin huffs. even from where the other is hiding behind the pillar, he can clearly make out jisung’s mane of ash blonde hair, dark roots peeking out; he’s pretty sure the cloud of dark curls beside jisung belongs to chan, clearly.

the younger only shakes his head and steers the trolley away. “c’mon. we’ve got far more things to select and buy than waste time fawning over your friends-”

“-how much longer are we going to be here?-”

“be quiet, binnie - grocery shopping is an _art_ , not a need, nor a want,” seungmin declares eloquently, albeit a little overdramatically, which can only make the corners of changbin’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, not even caring that his friends are videoing the scene shared between the two neighbours.

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 1629 HOURS**

**SEOUL / CC CONVENIENCE STORE**

the whirring of the air-conditioning is the only sound splitting the silence apart. a light flickers overhead, as changbin thumbs through a magazine grabbed off of the rack. the younger boy is strolling along one of the aisles, fingers tracing the bags of potato chips on the shelves. “why’re you even working?” he asks out of the blue.

a little taken aback by the sudden question, changbin lowers his magazine. when seungmin’s eyes land on him, they seem to flit up and down changbin. changbin’s skin pricks with a warm blush. “what do you mean?”

“like, why the part-time job?” he asks.

changbin clears his throat, carelessly setting the magazine down onto the countertop. the other part-time foreign worker, felix, is nowhere to be found yet again, thus leaving the both of them alone at their own disposal. “well… it’s sorta complicated.”

“complicated?” seungmin echoes. he tilts his head sideways, and it’s then that the other realises how closely the boy resembles a puppy - a cute one at that. “we’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us. what’s to it?”

“well,” changbin coughs into his fist, blushing harder. “my folks actually wanted me to steer into law - with the whole thing about them being lawyers, wanting me to take over the law firm the both of them laid down the foundations for, yada yada - and when they realised i applied for a university here in seoul, they got mad pissed. like, i’ve never seen my dad that worked up before.

“from then on, i’ve been on my own - rent, food, clothes, everything. at least i got full scholarship into the uni, though,” changbin finishes, chewing the insides of his mouth. “i know i probably should’ve listened to them, but whatever. i can’t change anything now.”

seungmin nods his head slowly. “hopefully the alternative you took is worth it. what’re you majoring in?”

“music production,” changbin replies nonchalantly.

“oh, good. something practical,” seungmin replies, grinning in what seems like approval.

changbin shrugs. “that’s what they all say. not sure what direction i’m taking in life. but for now: summer, rent, part-time job. tryna forget that i’m supposed to get stabbed to death tonight.”

“uh huh,” seungmin deadpans. “and _i’m_ tryna forget that i’m supposed to stop the walking god - or goddess, for that matter - of death from stabbing you to death. and trying to capture him all at the same time.”

as he finishes his last line, the tinkling of the silver bells over the entrance door sounds, crashing against the tiled walls from the harsh shove of the door. a boy walks in, dark cap hiding his hair and eyes, dressed in a simple white tee and denim jeans, and way to many ear piercings to properly count them all. seungmin cranes his neck to see who it is, changbin does too.

after several minutes, he shuffles up to the counter with a bottle of chilled soda and a wrist guard. “here,” he grunts, tossing them onto the countertop carelessly for changbin to scan.

_beep! beep!_

all the while, changbin can feel the hole burning into his skull from the intensity of the customer’s stare, but he doesn’t comment on it; he’s not supposed to. when his eyes dart up to meet the other’s, items pushed across the countertop for the customer to collect, his gut bubbles with unease at how dark the boy’s eyes are.

and just like that, he’s come and gone in a matter of a few minutes.

from where seungmin hid unseen from behind a shelf of cosmetics, he strides back up to changbin. “what did he buy?” he quizzes.

“soda and a wrist guard,” changbin mumbles. the striking possibility of the boy being his murderer makes his toes curl, like a sensation of glugging down soured milk. he can literally feel a droplet of sweat rolling down the side of his face, despite the cold air blasting from overhead.

seungmin stays quiet after that, and changbin thinks they share the common knowledge, the common assumption - a common thought. maybe that’s not going to be the last time changbin sees him today.

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 2132 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

after taking away some japanese for dinner, changbin twists the key in the keyhole and wrenches the door open. seungmin takes off his shoes, leaves his socks on as he pads into the room. the way he strides into the house seems all-too-familiar, and suddenly changbin is shot into the future and can see seungmin coming home from school, shuffling into the house with a beaming smile and a “i’m home!”

too much, changbin thinks. in a span of twenty-four hours, hatred has already conformed into infatuation. changbin figures that’s just how he is - he dives in way too fast, way too deep. he can’t believe how seungmin, the boy scrunching his nose up at the sight of the cups piled in the sink, is the same boy who’s supposed to save his life tonight.

“you’ve got a fucking dishwasher already; it can’t be that tough,” seungmin grumbles, before tossing the cups into the dishwasher himself. as he does so, changbin takes out their takeaway containers from the plastic bag and setting them onto the kitchen island. “lazy ass.”

“yah,” changbin flicks the back of seungmin’s head lightly. “respect your elders, won’t you?”

changbin can feel seungmin rolling his eyes, exasperated, despite his back facing the former. “whatever,” he grouches. _ah, there’s the kim seungmin i know._

within minutes, they’re sat opposite each other. from changbin’s bluetooth speaker, an indie song streams quietly in the air inhibiting the both of them. seungmin spoons some rice and chicken katsu before shoving it into his mouth. his glasses droop low on his nose, and changbin takes up the liberty of shoving them up.

“mind your own business, seo changbin,” seungmin barks, but there’s not a bite to his words, something that changbin is somewhat thankful for. changbin takes up his chopsticks and clicks them together, before reaching out for some unagi sushi.

the song fills the room, twirling in the air as the both of them eat in silence.

_we let our heads cave in… subject to a greater thing..._

“how does it feel, though, knowing that you can save lives with just a touch of a hand?” changbin questions, before popping another sushi into his mouth. he watches seungmin, careful as always, as the boy parts his lips in thought. he can see the other’s two front teeth as his mouth forms an ‘o’, and it’s somehow irresistibly _cute_.

“there’s the gut feeling that you need to save everyone, you know?” seungmin sighs. “thing is, you can’t save everyone. it’s against the laws of life and death - if they were doomed to die, stay away from them, my grandma always told me.” he chuckles dryly, eyes squarely on changbin. “guess i can’t listen to her advice all the time.”

the older tries to ignore how harshly his heart is rapping against his ribcage, instead focusing on taking up a few strands of niku ramen. “ah. why so?”  
“i can’t bear to see people die when i’m right fucking _there_ ,” seungmin shrugs, but changbin notes how tense his shoulders are. seungmin’s resolve is dissipating as their conversation drags on, left vulnerable and as open as a book for the older to see. “i could be helping them. what point is an ability like mine when i can’t use it to my full potential?”

“you’re torn in between hiding it and using it,” changbin muses, shovelling some beef into his mouth.

“exactly,” seungmin sighs defeatedly. “and besides, it’s hard to cover it up, too. still, imagine if the world knew your ability - they’d want to chop off my hands or something.”

changbin’s eyes dart to seungmin’s hands, slightly stubby fingers curling into his dainty palms. “uh huh,” he gulps. “i can see the struggle.”

_in faster pace, and brighter hues_

_i’d sacrifice the love i grew_

“it’s irritating,” seungmin scratches the nape of his neck, eyes flicking down to his dinner.

_...and i did_

changbin snatches up a tissue and dabs the corner of his lips with it, lest seungmin spike up about his clumsiness when eating yet again. “it’s beautiful,” changbin blurts out. when seungmin gives him an odd look, panic rises in his chest. “i mean, your ability. not you. i mean, you’re beautiful too. i mean-”

“-i get what you mean,” seungmin interrupts. changbin’s unsure if it’s the light playing with his eyes or pure imagination, but he swears that seungmin’s eyes light up a little, swears that he can see the pink tint in the other’s cheeks. “it is a beautiful ability. but one that comes with great responsibility.”

as the words leave his lips, seungmin blinks a little. “sorry. i’ve just never had anyone to talk this out to in a long time. my grandma said i should move out to the city - i can’t keep locking myself up back in damyang where my grandparents are. yet, it’s not like i can just talk it out with any of my friends in school - heck, i don’t even _have_ friends in school. it’s like everyone ignores the village boy who wears gloves to school no matter the weather.”

“why don’t you wear your gloves outside of school, though?” changbin prods.

seungmin shrugs. “in school, it’s tougher to cover up if i accidentally touch a plant or animal alive. in the city, where there’s way more people, it’s way easier.” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “easier for the murderer, too.”

“what if the murderer touches you?” changbin urges. “will you die, too?”

_you’re in the shallows of my head_

“i don’t know,” seungmin answers, voice hushed in a stage whisper, as if it is a secret shared between the both of them. changbin’s heart swells.

_and i know you’d love to swim_

_into the deep instead._

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 2304 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

to take their minds off of the imminent doom awaiting them outside their door, changbin ushers the younger boy into the living room to play a few rounds of mario kart, which, technically, is a) the only video game changbin has, since he’d saved up like heck when he was fifteen to buy the game, and b) the game changbin whoops everyone’s asses on.

despite that little fact, seungmin catches up with ease. sooner than changbin expects, their avatars are tearing down rainbow road, the one environment even changbin struggles not to die at. as luigi swerves to try and avoid the crashing of the thwwomps, bowser smashes into him and sends changbin’s avatar soaring off of the track.

“what the-” changbin glares at seungmin, who wears an innocent smile. his tongue is poking out, caught in between his teeth as his eyes stare on in concentration. “you little prick!”

“sorry, what did you say?” seungmin asks casually. He only turns to wink at changbin - the _cheek_ of him - before turning his attention back to the game, just as bowser cinches the number one spot. “can’t hear you over your avatar screaming.”

they haven’t turned the music off, still heard drifting from the kitchen.

changbin actually snarls; he swears he’s never this competitive, but with someone as amateur as seungmin beating his ass at his own game, his chest flares up. he punches the buttons on the wii console, desperate to catch up to seungmin’s avatar - until he goes diving deep down the pit of nothingness. “fuck me,” he hisses, groaning and tilting his head backwards.

“don’t need to get so worked up over a silly game, shortie,” seungmin and changbin can just _hear_ the taunting tone in the younger’s voice.

“ih, so it’s only _just_ a game,” changbin murmurs. an idea springs up in his mind. yes, it’s petty, and yes, seungmin will slaughter his entire family after this, but changbin pushes all those thoughts away as his hand creeps up the side of the couch. just as seungmin crashes into another computer player, changbin’s fingers tickle seungmin’s side.

and bingo.

“wha-” seungmin drops his console and reaches out to smack changbin, but to no avail. his voice is caught in between high-pitched squeals. changbin grins wickedly, shifting his entire body to face seungmin and tickle both his sides. seungmin screeches with laughter, glasses knocking off of his face as his hands reach up to grab at nothing. his glasses land with a plonk onto the floor, left unattended as changbin scoots them up to the end of the couch.

“get _off_ of me,” seungmin protests, but his sombre voice is drowned out by his insistent giggles. having way too much fun with it, changbin runs his hands all down seungmin’s sides, tickling him all over. finally, seungmin slaps changbin’s hand away, making the latter yowl in pain.

as their laughter slowly ebbs away, changbin can’t resist himself from smiling at his little prank. out of the corner of his eye, he can see every other computer player zipping past their onscreen avatars, the video game music pounding from the speaker. yet, the music drifting from the kitchen can still be heard above the din of the living room.

_i keep looking for something_

_even though i know that it’s not there_

“you sore loser,” seungmin huffs, blowing a few strands of hair off from where they’ve landed splayed across his eyebrows. when he fails at this, changbin smiles fondly and leans over to brush them off himself. they’re so close, he can feel warm breath fanning his face; so, so warm.

changbin hears his breathing deepen with every ticking second, and it’s as if someone punches him in the gut when his eyes look back at seungmin’s eyes, seungmin’s nose, seungmin’s chapped lips, dry from the summer night air.

_maybe you’re the reason_

heart buzzing alight, changbin braves the distance and leans in just that inch closer. he can hear the _exact_ moment seungmin’s breath hitches at the former’s sudden confidence. anything can happen in the span of a day, and to think that they were roasting each other’s asses in the few conversations they held before and nothing more, sends a shiver down changbin’s spine.

_every time i try to figure it out_

_you’re the only thing i can think about_

“changbin?” and shit, seungmin’s voice is so, so gentle and crooning, a rumble down both their spines as changbin’s fingers still linger where they hang over seungmin’s hair. ever so meticulously, he cards his fingers through the other’s soft, soft hair, a little greasy from having not showered for more than a day; yet, the homely strawberry conditioning is strong, and sends changbin’s heart churning. “binnie?”

changbin searches for some sort of resignation in the other’s eyes, blown so wide he can see everything - iris, pupil. hope. heart and soul. he swallows thickly before allowing his fingers to curl around the nape of seungmin’s neck and lean so close. he expects seungmin to shove him away, yell some sort of taunt, and proceed to whoop his little ass at mario kart.

_maybe you’re the reason..._

but to changbin’s greatest surprise (and, quite possibly, the reason for his near heart attack), seungmin caves in. his eyelashes flutter close as their lips brush ever so gently, as if testing the waters. the taste of chicken katsu and sushi and possibly sunshine sends an electric jolt down changbin’s entire being. he makes a noise, something like a choke and a laugh and a groan, before sinking in and diving deeper.

and seungmin? he crumbles into changbin, like a first bite of crumbly cake - the way it disintegrates into fragments as he whines and yearns for more. their lips smack noisily, and in any other context, it’d be disgusting and a slight turn-off, but it only spurs changbin on. he breathes heavily through his nose as he cups seungmin’s cheeks, holding him close.

when they part, seungmin’s eyes open to a world of endless stars afloat on dark pools. “changbin.” his name is a broken word on seungmin’s tongue. “i…”

“yeah,” changbin chuckles softly. “sorry-”

“-don’t be,” the younger cuts him off, before planting a solid kiss on changbin’s cheek - and changbin swears he feels as if his soul has ascended from his body and into the highest heavens. “that was, uh. wow.”

“yeah,” changbin nods his head. “are you…”

his words die in his throat. seungmin’s lips spread into a warm smile, and changbin thinks he feels the exact same heat sprinkled across his chest. “if i presume what you want to say correctly, yes, that was okay. it was more than okay. but i’d rather try and fend off the murderer after you first before, uh, everything else.”

changbin can’t help but feel more at ease, despite the resounding _ding!_ of the elevator outside, and the oncoming footsteps. maybe that’s part of falling for someone - the person you fall for could be a nobody one day, and _everything_ the next. and that is, changbin presumes, is the loveliest thing about falling for someone, anyone - seungmin.

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 2335 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

there comes the ominous pounding on the door. neither of them tear their eyes from each other until the second knock comes.

somewhere from the kitchen, the song repeats itself again.

_now tell me something_

_is there a point to this?_

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 2336 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

when changbin eventually does jolt the door open, he shouldn’t be all too surprised to see a pair of familiar eyes from only a mere few hours ago zeroing in on changbin. the darkness of those same pupils sends the coldest chill down changbin’s spine.

with his cap pulled down low over his eyes, the boy tilts his head up to see seungmin charging directly for him from behind changbin. “what the-” his voice cuts off when his eyes land back on changbin. and the victim takes that perfect opportunity to flick his gaze downwards to the boy with the darkest eyes in humankind to curl his hand into a fist - and punch changbin square in the gut.

_or are we living for the feeling_

_when we look back_

_on what we did and reminisce?_

the radio from earlier this morning blips back to changbin’s memory: _all authorities are puzzled with what could’ve created such a deep gash - such a quick and sudden kill-and-run with one single stab is horrific indeed._ all changbin can add to that in his mind is _well, horrific it is._

in that split second, it’s as if all energy was sucked out of his every fibre. his eyes roll upwards as his knees give way. collapses to the ground with those dark eyes staring down cruelly at his crumbling body. a dark glow fills his blurring vision.

the only thing changbin can process is the screaming from somewhere behind him, but even he’s not too sure of anything anymore. it’s as if someone’s twisted open a faucet, and every ounce of his energy is leaking out of him so, so fast…

 

— 

 

**JULY 26 2018 / 2339 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

music fades in and out of the background, littered with howls and screeches vaguely resembling human noises. changbin struggles to peel his eyes open, and when he does, he makes out seungmin, the enemy next door, land a punch square in the murderer’s jaw. a resounding crunch follows, and the murderer yowls in so, so much pain.

he makes out a hand reaching out to punch seungmin’s gut, but by god is the latter faster - seungmin catches the fist in his hand. an illuminating glow grows and grows and grows, their energy seeping out of them quicker and quicker and quicker-

_and i think i’m dying_

_‘cause this can’t be living…_

 

— 

 

**??? / ??? HOURS**

**??? / ???**

in changbin’s head, he floats, nothing tethering him to anything. he bobs about aimlessly; he’s a floating barnacle with nowhere to go, nowhere to be-

-until his anchor touches him alive, alive, _alive_.

 

— 

 

**??? / ??? HOURS**

**??? / ???**

a heavy tear plops down upon changbin’s cheek, urging him to _open your eyes! open your eyes!_ and he does, and what he sees before him stops his heart. seungmin’s eyes are hazy, glowing white. against the gash on his gut, he feels a hand

no. _two_ hands.

“don’t you dare _fucking_ die on me, changbin,” seungmin begs, his voice so, so broken and wounded. he coughs up blood, the droplets spilling down his lips and chin and oozing into the fabric of his shirt, but seungmin only presses his hands harder down against the skin of changbin’s bared stomach. “don’t die on me. _please_.”

and changbin should do something. maybe he should reach up and let his fingers tangle in that sweaty mess of hair splayed across his forehead. maybe he should, but as the energy trickles into him, a dam broken and spilling past its walls, changbin somehow feels more and more exhausted.

his eyes flutter shut on their own account.

_maybe you’re the reason…_

 

— 

 

**??? / ??? HOURS**

**??? / ???**

drifting into and out of consciousness, changbin remembers tears soaking his shirt, remembers ambulance sirens and gruff talking of the police and the stench of someone throwing up in the squeezy space of the back of the ambulance and a nurse’s voice, soothing as she rubs the back of the someone, calls him _brave boy, don’t fret, he’ll be alive._

 

— 

 

**JULY 28 2018 /  0325 HOURS**

**SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL / ROOM B001**

_i saw you in a dream_

_you came to me_

the quiet tune fades into changbin’s consciousness. the first thing he denotes when he awakes is the breaths of someone beside him. the second thing he denotes is the burning sensation in his stomach - the kind of pain that strikes someone hot and fast. the third thing he denotes is how he’s held down to the hospital by layer upon layer of blanket laid across his body.

as he shifts his weight, the boy who had fallen asleep against the bedside table jerks awake. in the dim light of the nightlight, changbin blinks slowly for his vision to sharpen. he takes in seungmin and his bloodshot eyes and lips so dry his lower lip is cracked and split open.

_seungmin._

“changbin.” seungmin breaks into a sob, before leaning close and throwing an arm around changbin’s upper torso. “fuck, changbin. i’m so, so sorry.”

the beeping noises of the heart monitor he’s hooked up to multiply in a matter of seconds. “for what?” he mumbles, tongue almost too heavy to move. “i saw you, y’know. you saved my _life_.”

seungmin sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his palm, like the oh-so-hygienic teenage boy he is. changbin wants to laugh at this, but the pain of the wound prevents him from doing so. “i promised you that he wouldn’t lay a finger on you,” seungmin mumbles. “i _promised-_ ”

“-technically, he punched me with his fist, so it’s really much of a finger,” changbin interrupts light-heartedly. his heart inflates at the sight of seungmin, in all his messed up glory, sat in guilt beside changbin’s body. “and. that doesn’t matter. you risked your life to save me. i thought he was gonna kill you; it would’ve been a life taken for another.”

“i would die for you again,” seungmin chuckles, but there’s a sort of sombreness in his voice. he leans down to nuzzle his nose gently against changbin’s cheek, and fuck, his heart wants to explode into a million pieces. “don’t get be started on how scared i was.”

“aw, _the_ kim seungmin? scared for little ‘ol me? that’s so sweet,” changbin cooes. he gets a swat on the shoulder, but seungmin can’t hide his growing smile. “also… can we?”

“can we what?”

changbin puckers his lips together as if to kiss the air. “kiss me.”

“but i should call on dr hwang-”

“-come on, seungminnie.”

the younger rolls his eyes, but his smile is permanent as he leans over, fingers grazing changbin’s jaw as their lips meet once, a deep dive and a swoop of changbin’s heart as they relish in the warmth and gentleness of each other. changbin’s heart monitor beeps a mile a second when seungmin begins pressing little kisses along the former’s jawline.

when he pulls back, seungmin sticks his tongue out. “your breath is so, so bad, ew. you haven’t brushed your teeth in days.”

and _there’s_ the kim seungmin changbin is so familiar with, and so, so fond of.

 

— 

 

**AUGUST 15 2018 /  2109 HOURS**

**DISTRICT APARTMENTS / ROOM 1925**

_ding!_

“i’m baaaaaaack,” changbin singsongs off-key as he strides into the room, right hand clutching onto takeaway bags. they swish with his every step as he bounds into the living room, where he spots chan and jisung curled up next to each other on one end, seungmin sprawled on the armchair. at the sound of his boyfriend, seungmin bounces to his feet with ease and swivels around to plant a chaste kiss on changbin’s cheek.

“disguuuusting,” jisung belches out, much to the disgust of the other three in the room.

“ _please_ , jisung,” seungmin rolls his eyes at the other. “you can stop describing yourself sometimes, y’know?”

this earns howling laughter from chan, and a chuckle from changbin. the latter ruffles seungmin’s hair with his free hand, before pressing a kiss against seungmin’s cheek. “hey.”

“did you know,” seungmin says lowly, “that they pressed charges on the guy already? prison for god-forgot how many years,” he adds, a twinkle in his eyes.

“well, someone covered it up well,” changbin grins. “i still wonder how he made the murder look like a stab and go.”

“one of his many abilities, i suppose,” seungmin shrugs. after a second, he seems to perk up again. “i saved a stray kitten dying of starvation on the way back from the grocery store; i couldn’t resist. it had the biggest eyes ever, as if pleading for me to save it.”

changbin giggles. “what’s its name this time around?”

“still thinking,” seungmin shoots back, before leading changbin into the kitchen. confused, changbin follows dumbly down the narrow hallway. when they reach the kitchen, seungmin shuts the door close behind them and whirls around, a wicked grin splayed across his lips.

“woah,” changbin holds his hands up in surrender. “you’re, like, nineteen, kid. and if it’s any resignation, i-”

“-not that, you horny bastard,” seungmin rolls his eyes for perhaps the billionth time that day. then, ever so cautiously, he pulls something from out of the pocket of his faded sweatpants. changbin narrows his eyes at it. it’s a miniature munchlax keychain - and quite specifically, changbin had lost a very, very long time ago.

changbin exchanges glances between seungmin and the keychain. “what’s this supposed to be all about?” he asks dumbly.

“it got caught in my glove that first day we bumped into each other at the lift,” seungmin admits sheepishly, before dropping it onto changbin’s open palm. “i’ve never apologised for how rude i was to you that day. i was being mean for no reason, really - all grouchy because i overslept that day and was so, so late for this tuition class i had. and when i bumped into you, i got even madder.”

“and i wonder why?” changbin mulls over thoughtfully. he catches a hot blush beginning to paint streaks across seungmin’s slightly tanned skin.

“you were… all sweaty and grimey and stuff. and you were wearing a tank top. and you looked somewhat intimidating, so i thought it best to square up against you, too-”

“-how does me wearing a tank top come as an excuse for why you were so mean-”

“-and you know that once i showed that facade, i had to keep it up, so-”

“-wait,” changbin laughs. “were you perving on my _arms_?-”

“ _-so_ ,” seungmin stresses, but the answer is so obvious on his facial expression. “that’s why i was so mean to you. but i kept seeing you around the city, from the convenience store to that one time you spilled your drink all over the pavements and this old lady beside you at the bus stop-”

“-shit, you were _there_?-”

“-and that was adorably clumsy of you,” seungmin points out shyly. he tilts his head a little, innocent puppy look adorned on his face. “and, well. yeah. i was washing my jeans today when i remembered the keychain, so i thought i would give it to you.”

“ah,” changbin smiles, but he tucks the keychain away and focuses on swooping in for a deep kiss. seungmin whines into the kiss, making the older laugh. he tangles his fingers into the strands of freshly-dyed cherry red hair, stroking softly. they kiss long and languid, bodies pressed close enough, not close enough.

there comes a pounding against the kitchen door that makes them spring apart in a split second. “hello? can y’all stop fucking in there so we can get some ice cream?”

“i said, there’s no fucking involved!” changbin groans as he unlocks the door for jisung and chan to stumble in, mirroring each other’s stupid smiles. “come on, you assholes…”

“stop referring to yourself, asshole,” seungmin adds playfully, eyes gleaming. changbin ignores his two friends dissolving into the maddest fits of giggles from where they are stood in the background.

“minnie mouse,” changbin bites back. seungmin bites back a smile.

“short bean,” seungmin replies back, so, so fondly.

  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/softtofustew_) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/softtofustew_) // [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/softtofustew)


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